Spontaneous nose licking, the dangers of sex-crazed lunacy, and evil unicorn fuckers...
Okay, so I’m guessing that time doesn’t actually come to a total standstill just because your tongue happens to be attached to some excruciatingly hot dude’s nose. Um, and not literally excruciatingly hot like, temperature wise, or else my tongue would be severely burnt. Which actually, all things considered, might not be such a bad thing.
But I mean, the whole world’s time can’t really revolve around the actions of a random, Misfits obsessed, co-ordinationally ‘special’, mentally unhinged gothic freak’s tongue.
And therefore, at least fifteen full seconds must have passed in total, deadly silence since I planted my licker on my vile, cheating stepsister’s insanely gorgeous boyfriend’s nose.
Oh, and my tongue is still determinedly attached to Frank Iero’s snout in case I haven’t already mentioned that.
And neither of us have moved since I had the misfortune to become possessed by the sex crazed lunacy of my brain cells to stick my tongue out and lick any part of the sex god who’s sitting dangerously close to me in the bathtub, legs either side of me, his thighs pressing tantalisingly against my hips.
But hey, I guess licking his nose wasn’t that bad compared to the other places my hormonally unhinged, pink knicker wearing brain cells could have pushed me to stroke with my tongue. I should actually be grateful.
Seriously though, how is it possible for one nose to be so god damn meesfucking alluring? Mind you, it’s not just his nose…it’s those heavy-lidded, recklessly red-rimmed russety green eyes, smirking pink lips, silver lip ring, carelessly styled mini Mohawk, slim yet muscular legs either side of me and that wonderfully enticing mingle of mango, tobacco and sunshine that lingers on his smooth, bare, lightly tattooed arms.
Oh, and did I mention there seems to be an insane, gothic, albino imbecile clinging onto the dude’s nose with his tongue? Which actually kinda spoils the mouth-wateringly sexiness.
Yeah, that imbecile just happens to be me.
Thanks a lot there, you little fuck ups of brain cells. You’ve really done it this time, you know- Jamie’s going to castrate you all when she finds out about this, and then you won’t be so overjoyed.
For once, the little pink-knicker wearing fuckers don’t respond. They’re all too busy melting unattractively against the front of my skull over the fact they’ve finally got their eager, pink, hormonally deranged little tongues on Frank Iero’s skin.
Mmm, Frank skin. It actually tastes as good as he smells- kinda like mangoes and vanilla and-
GET A GRIP, FUCKFACE. YOU’RE TONGUE IS STILL ON FRANK IERO’S NOSE. AND YOU’RE RUNNING OUT OF SALIVA.
Oh. I’d forgotten about that. Ooopsie.
I have to cross my eyes slightly to check I’m still in the slightly sticky situation I was in a few seconds ago. And yep, I am. Frank Iero’s nose is still on the end of my tongue.
Right, not to freak out or have a mental breakdown or anything, but WHAT THE ACTUAL MEESFUCK DO I DO NOW?! I have not been educated in this area. Why can’t they teach how to deal with absurd situations like these rather than maths at school? I mean, I’m very likely to never use trigonometry again, but knowing how to remove myself from this situation in a dignified way is something I’d really appreciate having been taught.
Because somehow, I just don’t think that he’ll believe I tripped and my tongue magically landed on his nose. Um, especially as I didn’t trip.
I also seriously doubt he’ll believe that I was forced into extending my licker and planting it squarely on his nose by a load of pink-knicker wearing lunatics that were all flattened in hormonally deranged desperation against the front of my skull, even though that’s actually entirely true.
My brain cells really aren’t being much help here, even though it’s their fault I’m stuck here with Frank Iero on the end of my tongue. Of course, the poor little things are melting, which can’t make it easy to think, let alone come up with some believable excuse that’ll get me out of this without being violently severed in half with a mascara wand by my satanic stepsister.
I don’t think there is really any way I can get out of this without making a complete and utter moron of myself.
But hey, I do that most of the time anyway.
Although actually, I haven’t spontaneously licked a dude’s nose before. That is pretty high up on the scale of embarrassing things I’ve done. And seriously, there have been a lot.
Thanks a lot there, you pink knicker, tarantella dancing little fuckfaces.
Sorry. He’s just so god damn…lickable!
Get a grip of yourselves, you little idiots. You’re salivating on his nose.
Oh, and your tongue is still on his nose, hence why you’re dribbling saliva all over it. Think removing it sometime soon might be good? It must have been lounging there for nearly a snail shitting minute now.
Meesefuckers and moose poopings.
My tongue’s still on his nose.
Frank Iero’s sniffing machine.
Okay, who the actual unicorn fuck calls a nose a sniffing machine?! Actually, Ray’s Mom probably does- after all, she is the one who calls the organ that all my brain cells are obsessed with and think the guy’s nose they’re licking has six of ‘baby making bits’. And sniffing machines and baby making bits just sound like they’d go together.
Not literally obviously. Unless you’re seriously fucked up in the head.
And, um, back to the point that my nose is still on his nose.
OHDEARREINCARNATEDMOOSEPOOPINGSNAILVOMITANDSLIME. This really is bad in so many ways.
“Are you licking my nose?” Frank whispers softly, making me jump and smirking slightly as his hot breath brushes my lips, that alone making me want to spontaneously melt and for Jamie to turn up with a mascara wand scythe and slice me in half before I can do anything else that will make me wish for immediate dispatch to my next life as an innocent, slime eating little snail.
Wait. Snails don’t actually eat slime, do they?
See, you’d even be shit as a snail- you don’t even know your own eating habits.
Well, maybe that’s because I’m not actually a snail yet.
You will be if you don’t answer the question Frank just asked you, numbskull.
Um, what question?
Weren’t you listening?!
Don’t you dare call me like that, you shit skull- you weren’t listening either!
Well what were you doing then?!
Licking his nose. Was that not clear?
AWNSER THE MOTHERFUCKING QUESTION!!
“Uhh...no?” Oh, great one, Gerard. Cause that’s SO obviously not a lie.
Frank laughs softy, his warm chuckles ghosting over my lips and making me dizzy. My tongue is also starting to feel slightly dry as I think I may have just released all my drool all over the sexy god of sex godliness that is Frank Iero; the sexy sex god of sex godliness that just happens to be dating my evil, Satan descended stepsister who just happens to be cheating on him with my traitor of a puff headed friend.
Jeez, love really does work in the most mysterious, fucked up ways.
“Oh, really?” He smirks, making me want to just melt into a pile of hormonal goo and slither down the plughole of the bath behind us. “What are you doing, then?”
“Umm….massaging your nose with my tongue?”
Oh my god, did I actually just say that?! Please tell me my brain cells aren’t actually that retarded yet. I really thought I couldn’t humiliate myself further than this, but hey, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been wrong.
Frank’s laughing softly, eyes crinkling up as he grins.
Apparently my brain cells are even more retarded than I thought they were, and that’s really an achievement.
Oh meesefucking shit. I just told Frank Iero, god of all sexy unattainable yumminess that I’m massaging his nose with my tongue.
Before I can die of embarrassment, Frank pulls away slightly, all my little brain cells bursting into tears of despair as their little tongues are prised from the warm skin of his nose. Clingy little pink knicker wearing fuckers.
My head spins dizzily and my tongue feels oddly dry and lacking saliva.
I’m all set to stumble up, dash from the room and out of the house to the nearest mental institute with padded cells, or a beach with very high, jagged cliffs that I could leap off the top off. And I mean without a parachute.
I might even zoom over to Ray’s house and shave his head as revenge.
Stupid, traitor of a cat snogging fucker.
However, before I can gather the fuzziness of my weeping brain cells and make my escape from sanity, Frank’s hand closes round my wrist, preventing me from moving and sending erratic goose bumps all over me at his warm touch.
I have a moment of inner flailing and panic, before I look up into his recklessly red-rimmed russet swirled eyes and freeze totally under their potency that destroys my resurrected knees completely, despite the fact I’m sitting down. Sitting down between Frank Iero’s legs, but um, perhaps that’s not the best thing to focus on right now if I’m wanting to remain alive.
I just gaze into his enchanting eyes for a moment like the hormonally insane teenager I am, unable to drag my brain cells’ attention away so as I can escape and never have to face the dude’s nose I salivated on again.
The air between us feels charged with static electricity, the same energy that fizzles and tingles all over my body as the small space slowly heats up, making my pulse throb and my heart pound erratically as all my little brain cells moan in a disturbingly sexual manner at the intoxicating proximity which is reeling me in.
And then something seriously freaky happens to my left cheek.
Frank’s tongue seems to be on it.
Okay, this is perfectly normal, right? I mean, what’s strange about your stepsister’s boyfriend randomly molesting your face with his tongue in your bathroom? With the door locked. And a large pot of red hair dye smeared all over the dude’s head.
And um, ohmymeesinggod, Frank Iero is licking my cheek.
My eyes widen and all my little brain cells faint in shocked delight and pleasure while my stomach is cart wheeling and somersaulting and back flipping like a hyperactive gymnast on speed. Or Ray that fateful day he tried smoking weed.
Oh dear moose poop, I think I’m actually melting. My cheeks are fucking on fire. And I don’t think it’s healthy for a heart to beat that fast.
All too soon, Frank sits back and grins mischievously at me, eyes glittering, lips pulled up into a cheeky smirk as he stares at my blushing form resembling something similar to a dying gothic tomato about to die of a heart attack.
Which really, isn’t the most attractive thing in the world, and right now, is not really something I’m delighted to look like. I’d rather look like a very manly, muscular, sexy human who’s totally cool about having his cheek licked, rather than being a retarded, gothic, dying tomato with cheeks chubbier than a morbidly obese hamster and a heart pounding faster than Ray’s when he snogged his cat.
But I guess I’d need a whole new face, body and personality to look something other than that.
Shaking myself out of my thoughts that are basically undistinguishable due to the fact they’ve melted completely and my brain now feels as if it’s filled with even more useless mush than usual, I look up shakily at the grinning sexy, mouth-wateringly hot guy that’s so out of my league he might as well be a slimy, tentacle adorned green alien.
His eyes are still glittering away at me in a reckless way that almost seems to be daring me to challenge him. And oh god, is that a dangerous thing to lure my crazed, pink knicker wearing brain cells into thinking.
Seriously, if he doesn’t watch out he’ll be dead from being drowned in my brain cells saliva or strangled as they hug him so tightly he can’t breathe, or suffocated by several thousand overly excited little pink tongues.
Usually, I would totally chicken out and become a stuttering, blushing, moronic mess riddled with insane, giggling, drooling brain cells. However, coming to the conclusion that I can’t really make things much worse and that I’m going to die and be reincarnated as a sweet little snail anyway, much to my own horror and before I can stop the giggling little insane lunatics that seem to have taken over my brain, my tongue reaches out of my panting mouth and before I can reel it back in and remove the heads’ of my brain cells, I lick way all the way up from Frank’s jaw to his temple.
Like, with my tongue.
On his face.
My beyond evil stepsister’s devastatingly gorgeous boyfriend’s face.
He smirks again, that lethal, glimmeringly devastating smirk that kills my poor little knees and melts my brain cells so as they stick unattractively to the front of my skull in a moronic mush of fuzzy retardedness, and my pulse is actually fluttering now.
I shiver at his smile, which makes him smirk more and me wish that Jamie had brutally chopped me into a thousand tiny pieces with one of her complicated beauty products long, long ago so I wasn’t sitting here in my own bathroom having just licked the most gorgeous guy in the whole of creation’s face and now consequently being dangerously turned on.
His smile is intoxicating, his eyes enchanting, his breath warm and tickly and tantalising against my stifled gasps and burning lips.
And then, before I can actually spontaneously combust, he licks my other cheek, letting his tongue linger tantalisingly up the burning flesh and smirking as I practically explode there and then.
My breathing is shallow and gasping when he finally pulls away slightly and grins breathily at me, his cheeks flushed ever so slightly to match the spatters of red hair dye in the bathtub around us.
He’s like a fucking magnet. I stand no chance; my heart’s racing, stomach churning, mind dizzy, thoughts eclipsed by lust and the sex crazed stupidity of my overly excited, squealy little brain cells who just can’t believe their luck.
The atmosphere between us feels even more charged, tingling all over my skin as I recklessly lean forward and lick quickly, breathlessly from Frank’s chin to the soft, pink skin of his lower lip, letting my tongue linger slightly on the silky flesh that makes my lower stomach turn inside out longingly.
Barely without hesitation, Frank dips his head lethally close to mine and holds it there for a second so as I can feel his uneven breaths of warm, tobacco scented smirks on my lips, and then, before I have a chance to try and compose myself, he leans in and licks his way slowly, sloppily across my lips, his tongue hot on my goose bumpy skin.
My stomach double flips and I let out an embarrassingly loud noise that’s halfway between a moan and a fucked-up purring sound, probably similar to the noise Ray’s cat makes as goose bumps erupt all the way down my spine.
Tingling longing bubbles up inside me faster than the speed of light, spilling out into the heavily charged atmosphere of stifled gasps between us, and then, before I can think twice about what I’m about to do, I wildly grab the neckline of Frank’s sleeveless shirt, dragging him close and then smashing my lips desperately into his, heart pounding.
I barely even have time to register just what the fuck I’m doing and scream at my (now dying) brain cells when Frank groans loudly into my mouth, making my stomach squirm in pleasure, and he yanks me closer, his hands fierce on my hips, trailing up to my neck where he tangles them furiously with my raven hair, pressing me further into the silky soft oblivion of his lips.
Then it’s all just a wonderful, dizzying blur of lips on lips, working recklessly against each other, hands grasping handfuls of hair and breath flowing unevenly into mouths in shaking gasps.
He tastes of cigarettes and coffee and mango smoothies and it’s just fucking perfect. Even better than all my crazed little brain cells could ever imagine in their sick minded little thoughts.
It feels like every nerve in my co-ordination lacking body is on fire as Frank’s hands grip my hair more tightly and his tongue snakes out into my mouth, licking deviously at the corner of my lips and making me make the embarrassing purr/groan sound again as my stomach turns inside out once more.
I feel Frank smirk against my lips as I grab at his back desperately like the hormone crazed lunatic I am, tugging and tearing at the material of his t-shirt as he moans softly into my mouth and slides his devastating hands down to my hips, pulling me closer still into the V shape between his thighs which alone makes me lose it ever so slightly and bite down on his lower lip fiercely and dig my nails into his back.
He moans shamelessly loudly into my mouth, making my stomach cartwheel again and again and again as our tongues dance fiercely together, my lips crushed completely against his, barely leaving me room to draw a gasp of the summer air.
I don’t even care. I could suffocate here and die happy to be reincarnated as the little snail I’ve been destined to become for so long.
Frank’s slim and muscular and warm, tobacco and mango scented with devastating lips meshing recklessly against mine as the blood I drew biting his lower lip mingles between us, making my heart race faster and faster.
He seems to feel the increase of my already fluttering pulse as my tongue snakes out and into his mouth, and he grabs my spine, slamming our chests together so as I can feel every bone and curve of his body and the accelerated pound of his heart faintly against my own frantic heartbeat.
I am actually melting. I release a half gasp, half moan into his hot mouth at the crushing contact and he tips my head back, kissing more deeply and frantically, pressing me closer still to him. Every nerve in my body is a live wire, flickering and tingling with every stifled gasp and frenzied touch.
I actually think the pink knicker wearing morons inside my head have died, which only increases my ecstasy to a realm I didn’t even think was possible.
Suddenly, Frank’s warm, softly callused guitar player’s hands are sliding under the fabric of my t-shirt and digging wildly into my soft flesh as our kiss gets harder and faster, tongues careless and reckless, lost in the frenzied passion.
I definitely sound disturbingly like a sexually pleased cat this time I make the funny, embarrassingly loud moaning sound, but I’m too far gone to care as I scrabble with the hem of Frank’s sleeveless top, fingers desperate as they roam over the smooth, lightly tanned, muscular skin of his back that makes my lower stomach do the funny turning inside out thing again and turning me on further still.
Frank’s face is crushed up furiously against mine, a tangle of frantic lips and messed up hair, our hearts pounding unevenly and out of sync with each other’s while Frank’s tongue battles more urgently with mine and his lips smash and slam faster still against my trembling ones and his reckless hands snake down my shuddering, goose bumpy back to dip fearlessly under the waistband of my jeans, teasing, tingling, making me lose it completely and-
“GERARD?! What’s going on in there?!” A loud banging on the bathroom door accompanied by my evil, straightener obsessive younger sibling’s irritating voice suddenly shatters the silence of the bathroom.
Frank and I both jump wildly, jerking apart as his hands shoot guiltily out of my jeans and we both blink at each other, startled and bemused, hair ruffled and dishevelled, lips swollen, chests heaving and cheeks flushed.
“Gerard?!” Mikey repeats, banging more loudly on the door.
I try and reply, but I find my voice has totally deserted me. Along with all coherent thought and sanity. Well, I guess there wasn’t much of that in the first place anyway. I am also embarrassingly and dangerously turned on.
“Gee! What the fuck are you guys doing? I heard something that sounded like the moan of a dying person and I was worried you’d killed Frank with the hair dye or something,” Mikey says, starting to sound uncertain on the other side of the door. “That stuff is toxic, you know.”
There’s a silence, during which all my little brain cells whine in disappointment that my lips are no longer attached to the sexiest sex god’s.
I blink, trying to calm my frantic heart as I look wide-eyed at the flushed, dishevelled and almost unbearably hot, panting guy’s legs I’m sitting between, his pupils dilated crazily as he rakes a shaky hand through his messed up Mohawk, smirking slightly guiltily at me.
Wow. Like just…wow.
Oh my actual moose pooping meesfuck and snail slime. I just snogged the pants off Frank Iero.
Well, not literally. Sadly.
Well, I might have done if my fucker of a brother hadn’t butted in and ruined the best moment of my life.
Oh nice one brain. That’s really a thought that’s going to calm you down.
“Oh god,” Mikey’s groan sounds from the other side of the door suddenly, making us both jump again and interrupting my thoughts. “Please say you guys aren’t fucking….”
Frank’s smirk widens guiltily and my cheeks feel as though they’re actually about to go up in flames as I look at my stepsister’s boyfriend’s swollen lips, lethally tight jeans and heaving chest tantalising centimetres away from me.
“Gee?! If you’re fucking, please stop!” Mikey sounds a little panicked now.
Okay, does my younger sibling actually live purely to embarrass me to death?
Answer; yes, yes he almost certainly does.
Little unicorn fucker.
Well, there you go :P I’ll update as soon as I can…please R&R like the awesome readers you are and you’ll find out what happens next :P hope that was okay- I’m not that used to writing smut-ish stuff, so let me know what you thought? Please?
[*Thanks for reading- love you all!